


seaweed hair and stolen air

by WhenTheFloodsRollBack



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F, Mermaids, Multi, and drown men as revenge for being thrown overboard, specifically mermaids who used to be human
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:35:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22252705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhenTheFloodsRollBack/pseuds/WhenTheFloodsRollBack
Summary: The seawater burns- burns her eyes, her throat, her lungs- but it does not drown her. What none of them know is that the ocean is tired of being a dumping ground for unwanted women. So it does not drown her.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Female Character, Original Female Character/Original Female Character/Original Female Character/The Ocean
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	seaweed hair and stolen air

They catch her just after dawn. She is squatting over a bucket below decks, too distracted by the relief in her bladder to notice the approaching footsteps of one of her fellow sailors. She has cut her hair short, dressed herself in men’s clothes, but she cannot disguise herself with her pants down. Her shipmates, who had previously gotten along just fine with her, now look at her in disgust. Women on a ship are bad luck. And what better way to rid themselves of bad luck than to throw its source overboard?

The seawater burns- burns her eyes, her throat, her lungs- but it does not drown her. What none of them know is that the ocean is tired of being a dumping ground for unwanted women. So it does not drown her. The rope tied around her legs tightens, forcing them together, even as the rope itself transforms into scales running down her now-fused legs. She breathes in the water, and she does not drown. 

She does not drown, but neither does she thrive. Her tail feels as natural now as her legs once did, but her lungs long for oxygen. Yet when she swims to the surface, the air is dry and rough and even more foreign to her now than the water.

The first ship she calls to ignores her. Her throat is rough from the saltwater, her voice scratchy from disuse, and her hair is still mannishly short from her time as a sailor. So she practices. Slowly, she bends her voice to her will, and she weaves a wig of seaweed strands for her head.  
The next ship listens. Her performance is imperfect, but it’s enough to catch their attention. Enough to let her swim up to the edge of the boat, where the men have gathered to listen to her and gawk at her uncovered body. She reaches for one, and at the last moment he seems to sense the predator lurking in the pretty girl with the fish tail. But too late.   
She snatches him from the railing and drags him down with her below the waves. What follows, if his fellow sailors could see it, might look to them like a kiss. To an observer from later centuries, it might look like CPR, and in a way, it is. But she is not giving him her air, but instead taking his from him, the air in his lungs now and all the air he might have breathed in the future. Her scalp tingles as she clutches him, seaweed-green hair sprouting from it and dislodging her makeshift wig.   
When she is done, she inhales seawater, and it does not burn. 

She is too late to save the next one. Another woman thrown overboard by superstitious sailors. All she can do is hold her steady, and stroke her hair as she shudders through the transformation. Later, she will call to the ship as she called to the last one, and together they will steal the air from the men who tried to drown her companion. But for now, all she can do is be there for her, and reassure her that the ocean will provide for them now. 

The third one walks into the water willingly. There is no boat, no sailors, only herself and the overwhelming feeling of despair that no one understands that she really is a woman.. But the ocean understands her, better than anyone on land ever could, and it sends the two mermaids to her. They take turns stroking her hair and singing reassurances and breathing saltwater into her lungs, and finally she is home.


End file.
